


Come With Me

by LaufeiaEvans



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 23:57:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1877316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaufeiaEvans/pseuds/LaufeiaEvans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor finds a way to get the Master back, and now he has a proposition for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come With Me

The Master gasped as he opened his eyes for the first time in what felt like years. Bright light flooded his vision, and he squinted, blinking until he could see where he was. It didn’t help much. He didn’t recognize this place at all.

“Master?” a voice called out. He jumped. That voice…it sounded so clear; he could hear and understand every word like he’d never been able to before.

That’s when he first noticed it.

Silence.

All he could hear, apart from a very low mechanical whirring somewhere in the distance, was complete silence. The drums were gone.  
He sat up in shock, looking around for the source of the voice. His eyes fell on the Doctor. His body was new, but it was unmistakably him. He’d always been able to tell, always recognized him with every regeneration.

The Doctor looked at him with a mix of happiness and incredulity. He stared back, wanting him to speak again, wanting to hear that voice.

The Doctor’s face broke into a smile. “Master,” he repeated. “You’re alive.”

The Master nodded. That reminded him: he was alive. Why? He’d just burned up his life force to kill the High President of the Time Lords. He shouldn’t be here. He couldn’t die in the Time Lock, of course—couldn’t do much of anything, really—but now that the Doctor was with him he guessed that he wasn’t there anymore. So why was he still living?

“Where am I?” he asked shakily, and he was a bit surprised to hear his own voice. He hadn’t regenerated, then. “Why am I still alive?”

The Doctor smiled. “You’re in the TARDIS medical bay. Out of the Time Lock. I’ve just pulled you out.” He held up a small device. His laser screwdriver! “Turns out this has enough of a connection to you to bring you back.”

The Master stared openmouthed at the Doctor. He was out of the Time Lock. And the Doctor was the one to get him out?

“Why?” he asked, barely above a whisper.

“Why did I pull you out?” The Doctor’s face became serious. “I didn’t want you to die.”

They stared at each other for a moment, neither one sure of what to say. The Master wanted to thank the Doctor, but at the same time felt he didn’t deserve it. Sure, the Doctor had saved his life, but what did that mean? Was he going to be kept prisoner now? He’d rather have died, honestly.

The Doctor finally broke the uncomfortable silence. “Well, you seem to be healthy enough now. The TARDIS fixed you up a bit, but you should be okay. You can get up and walk around now, if you like.”

The Master stayed still. He kept his eyes locked on the Doctor, careful not to let any of his fear show.

“Am I going to be trapped here, Doctor?”

The Doctor didn’t answer at first. He looked down, fidgeting with the laser screwdriver, and the Master had the sudden urge to grab it out of his hands. He stayed put, though, still staring at the Doctor.

“I don’t know,” he answered finally.

The Master rolled his eyes. “You don’t know? How can you not know? Are you planning on keeping me here or not?”

“I was,” the Doctor explained. He looked up at him. “But I don’t have to keep you prisoner.”

The Master stared at him. “Go on.”

“You don’t have to control the universe,” he said, repeating what he had told the Master the last time they spoke. “You just need to see it.” The Doctor took his hand. “I’d like you to come with me, Master. Not as a prisoner, but as a friend.”

The Master didn’t answer at first. He replayed the Doctor’s words over in his mind. A friend. It had been centuries since he and the Doctor had been considered friends.

The Doctor thought that he wanted to control the universe. That had been true once, but not for the reasons the Doctor knew. He wanted—no, he needed to control the universe because he didn’t have control over anything else. His whole life, his entire self, was driven by the drums. They’d driven him mad, to the point where he didn’t know how to take control of his life anymore. He wanted that control over everything because there was so much that he couldn’t control. His own life. Himself. And, more than anything, the Doctor.

He looked down at their hands, clasped together, and held on to the Doctor’s tightly. The drums were gone now. What did that mean? Could he take control of his life again? He looked up at the Doctor with a small smile, and nodded. Maybe he wouldn’t need to control the universe. Maybe he could travel with the Doctor. Maybe, with enough time, they could forgive each other for everything that had happened between them.

Maybe they could be friends again.


End file.
